The Arithmancer
by Selberhad
Summary: PostHBP, Year 7. A young American Arithmancer OC is recruited by Dumbledore before his death to help Harry prepare. The story is going to be split POV between the OC and Harry. Just a start, so far.


_Introducing the original character in this chaper. The story is told split between his and Harry's POVs. This world belongs to J.K. Rowling. The OC's name is temporary but may prove permanent, I don't know yet._

**The Arithmancer**

- Chapter 1 -

An owl stared unblinkingly at John Smith where it sat perched on the bicycle rack outside his apartment.

A letter, sealed with green wax, hung limply from the bird's beak. John was not used to seeing owls carrying envelopes in broad daylight in the middle of Boston, but he immediately knew the owl for what it was. His parents, a Squib and a muggle, had had very little to do with the magical world and had never received mail by owl. Born a wizard, John had lived a rather ordinary Muggle life until his thirteenth birthday, at which point his parents had informed him of his talents and sent him off to University Arcanum, a prestigious American school for wizards. He had heard of the school owlrey, of course, but hadn't ever visited it, relying on the house elves to deliver any mail he might get.

Eying the owl's sharp beak warily, John quickly snatched the letter. The bird gazed at him expectantly. _Probably wants a treat_, he thought. However, as he made for the entrance to his apartment building, the bird launched itself into the air and fluttered around his head. He sighed.

"Do you want me to read the letter now?" he asked the bird. The owl's hooting sounded surprisingly affirmative, so he shrugged and peered at the Hogwarts seal and the green ink. Vague recognition sparked somewhere in the back of his mind, but he couldn't think of why he'd receive a letter from Britain's magical boarding school. He checked the date; no wonder the owl seemed impatient, the letter was weeks old already! John tore open the envelope and removed the letter.

Dear Mr. Johnathan Smith,

I wish to inform you that an opening for a tutor of advanced magics in your area of expertise has opened at my school. I would consider it a personal favor if you'd consider taking the position. I must warn you that Hogwarts is not as safe as it once was. Still, I think you might find exploring the school's magic sufficient enticement.

Please, let me know your decision as soon as you can.

Sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore

Headmaster, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

John blinked. A personal invitation from Albus Dumbledore to teach at Hogwarts! This was not something to be turned down; the school was a veritable treasure chest of ancient magics. He wondered what need Dumbledore had of an advanced Arithmancer, as such courses were usually only taught in the wizarding equivalent of higher education.

Voldemort was a threat, of course, but John felt confident he could keep himself out of harm's way. Most would consider him an arrogant fool. Yet he kept all of his best spellwork to himself, and published none of his advanced theories because the wizarding world simply wasn't interested. His introductory works had attracted the attention of some wizards, Dumbledore's among them, but the later works were too mathematical and abstract, simply too _Muggle_ for the magical community.

The offer was even more irresistible because he had left the University just a few weeks ago. To the twenty four year old Muggle-raised (and unemployed) wizard, an adventure in the old country with it's rich magical history seemed to him exactly what a wizard his age should be having. He brought his the wand, tucked up a special pocket in his coat sleeve, into his hand with a quick flick of his wrist and pointed it to his throat.

'_Transcribus,' he intoned. Then, pointing at the letter he muttered "Headmaster Dumbledore. I'll do it. Johnathan Smith". The green ink rearranged itself into his words, and with another wave of his wand, the letter tucked itself back into the envelope. He repaired the tear, reversed the addresses with a quick flick of his wand, and held the envelope up to the owl, which was still flapping around above his head agitatedly. The bird swooped and snatched it from his hand and winged off. Shaking his head in bemusement, he finally entered his apartment building and took the elevator up to the seventh story._

_After ensuring that his intrusion detection wards had not been tripped, John entered his apartment. The shelves of old, leather bound books that lined the walls of the living room were at odds with the mostly Muggle furnishings; a modern kitchen, a computer with a flat panel display, and a wheeled leather office chair. John had grown up a Muggle, and old habits died hard. He even used his computer for his Arithmancy simulations, truly radical for a wizard, but he found there was simply no magical equivalent._

_He turned on his computer and gathered what digital data he needed with him onto a small laptop. He knew it'd be useless with Hogwarts, but he hoped he'd be able to make it outside of the school's shields occasionally. Once he had started the transfer, he got up and began to pack._

_A red eyed Minerva McGonnagall sat in Professor Dumbledore's office, sorting through the incoming correspondence for the Headmaster. She realized that Albus had been well prepared for his death when she found a exceedingly long scroll on her desk detailing the Headmaster's instructions in the event of his demise. That knowledge made his loss all the more difficult to bear, but the Deputy Headmistress was a stoic woman, and she would not let her grief keep her from what Albus needed her to do._

"Johnathan Smith," she read aloud off one envelope. She recalled seeing the name somewhere in the scroll, and opened the letter. The rather obscure words "I'll do it" were the only message the letter contained. Frowning at the letter's lack of context, and recognizing the hasty transfiguration that had formed the letters, she couldn't help wanting to admonish the sender for his poor correspondence etiquette. Truly, she thought, a letter to the prestigious Headmaster should receive more care!

She set aside the rather sorry excuse for a letter and picked up the Headmaster's scroll, scanning the page for the instructions regarding Johnathan Smith.

**Author's Notes:**  
This is just a bit of inspiration I had for a story. I'm still not completely sure where it's headed, but I have some good ideas for an exciting fanfic. Please, comment!  
-Selberhad


End file.
